


Easy Influence

by UselessLilium (o0whitelily0o)



Series: Kazumi Onimaru Appreciation Project [6]
Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Abusive Parents, Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0whitelily0o/pseuds/UselessLilium
Summary: Kazumi's mother would like to have a few words with him about his behavior since the U20 ended.





	Easy Influence

“And where are you going?”

Your son stops, halfway out the door of his room, a small bag over his shoulder. He blinks at you, the smile that was on his face - small enough that a more careless eye might have missed - disappearing completely in the same instant.

“I’m going out tonight, Mother,” he says simply, before closing the door behind him and starting to turn away. “Some of my classmates decided to pool our notes for the next exam; it sounded helpful, so I agreed to go. If it gets too late, I might stay overnight, but I’ll call to let you know if that’s the case.”

You follow him, step for step. “Which class?”

“Business law,” he answers, without missing a beat.

“And why aren’t they coming here instead? We have the room.”

“It was a last-minute decision, I couldn’t impose on our staff like that without warning. Maybe next time.”

His words don’t falter. Not his tone, or inflection, or the even length of his strides. But they all ring false to you regardless. “Kazumi,” you say, “Before you go, I’d like to speak with you.”

He glances back, just briefly. “Mother, I don’t have time-”

“If your classmates are really planning to work all night, then you’ll have plenty of time,” you insist, “This is  _ important _ , Kazumi.” There’s just enough severity injected into the request that his steps finally still, and he turns to look back at you.

He’s wavering, not just listening, and it occurs to you that if he turned and kept going you wouldn’t really be able to stop him. Not without causing a scene. He’s taller than you now. The days you could simply take him by the hand and pull him aside are over. But at last, he relents, glancing away and giving a slight nod. “Alright.” You don’t smile, but you’re heartened by that. He’s still a good boy, even after all this time. You’re sure you can get this sorted out today, if you speak plainly to him.

You quickly lead him to your own room. No one would dare interrupt you, and this conversation you’d like to keep private. You kneel down on a cushion, gesturing across from you for him to do the same.

“Kazumi,” you say, as he’s settling down, “You’ve been spending a lot of time out lately.”

“Is that a problem?” His tone is even, but a touch too light.

“That depends.” You tilt your head a little. “Your classmates’ names. What are they, exactly?”

His mouth tightens, just a bit. “Well, I haven’t gotten them all memorized yet, but-”

“Even though you’re going out with them tonight? Are any of them the same ones you met up with earlier this week?”

“Yes, a few-”

“ _ Stop- _ ” you say, sharp enough for him to flinch despite himself “-lying to me, Kazumi. You still haven’t given me any names.” He starts to open his mouth, but all you have to do is ask, “And unless they’ll be found on the class rosters when I check in with your teachers, don’t bother,” for him to close it in defeat. He might have outgrown you, but you draw yourself up ramrod straight and still look down your nose at him. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? You should be well aware that I, of all people, know what sneaking around looks like.”

He doesn’t say anything. He hasn’t looked away either, but you think that’s simply because he doesn’t dare to. And most tellingly of all, he’s perfectly still. A guarantee that he feels guilty. You give him a few more seconds, to see if he’ll try and make excuses, but when he stays silent, you can only sigh.

“Kazumi, dear, please don’t think me unsympathetic. It’s natural at your age to be interested in dating.” You close your eyes, shaking your head firmly. “But whoever this girl is, she will just wind up heartbroken. Not just  _ anyone  _ would be acceptable as the head of the family’s partner, and you know that perfectly well. If you think you’re ready for it, though, I can arrange a few meetings for you, and then-”

But when you open your eyes, readying your most reassuring smile, you’re met with a blank stare, absent even of the earlier guilt. When he notices your surprise, he tries to straighten it out, but it’s too late. You’ve already seen it. Leaning towards him, not wanting to miss a single twitch out of place, you ask, “So it isn’t a girl, then?”

He shrinks back, just a little. “I never said it was.”

You frown a bit. What else could it be? If it really was just a friend, then surely he would have no reason to hide it like this. Unless it’s someone unsavory... but you’d like to think by now, your son knows what kind of people he should be associating with. His teammates have all been respectable enough - naturally, you made sure to look into their backgrounds after he introduced you, and nothing stood out as a problem. And yet despite spending so many years clearly satisfied with spending his time at home, this past month he’s been slipping out of the house for hours on end. It started so suddenly, too, almost right after that little tournament...

...No. You look up at him slowly, disbelief twisting your face. Surely not.  _ Surely  _ he wouldn’t betray you like that too. But as much as you grasp for another explanation -  _ any  _ other explanation - it continues to elude you. And, voice shaking despite yourself, you finally say, “That woman’s child. Don’t tell me you’ve been seeing  _ him _ .” He doesn’t even breath. Right on target, then. You inhale sharply, leaning forward to get your face in his. “Kazumi, how  _ could  _ you? If-” You scramble for something to shake him, to make him understand the severity of what he’s doing, “If your father had  _ any  _ idea-”

But his voice is flat when he asks, “Are you going to tell him?” The interruption is irritating, but... you look at him carefully. There’s something hard in his stare. You don’t like it - best to tread lightly here, you think.

“...I don’t know,” you say, straightening yourself back up. “Are you going to stop?”

“No.” His eyes flicker, but his voice is steady. “Kazuma  _ is  _ my brother. Whether you like it or not. I have the right to see him, if I want.”

It’s a good thing your husband isn’t here. Even you could slap him at the idea that that woman’s sneaky, underhanded trap still constituted ‘family’. But you, at least, have more composure than that. And you can see that just yelling isn’t about to convince him. So, softly,  _ gently _ , you say, “Kazumi, you know it’s not that simple. If you encourage him like this, he could get... ideas. Start demanding things from this family that he’s no longer entitled to.”

Perhaps it’s hard for him to imagine that small, timid little boy being bold enough, but it’s certainly all too easy for you to imagine his mother putting her child up to it. You still remember the way she smiled at you, that day she brought her son to your house. ‘ _ His name is Kazuma _ ,’ she said,  looking you straight in the eye and smiling, ‘ _ I thought it was only right, for him to match his brother. Don’t you think it’s cute? _ ’ She must have thought you were a complete fool to not hear the taunt behind her oh-so-sweet tone. It was clear she believed herself just one step away from replacing you and your child completely.

Well, she was wrong about that. Bad blood always shows; it was only natural that your bright and wonderful boy would always outmatch a child who had no right even being born. But haven’t you suspected, all these years, that the compensation she was given for disappearing couldn’t possibly be enough to assuage her ambition?

“He won’t,” Kazumi says, shaking his head, “He’s not interested in anything like that.”

Then they’ve talked about it already. The suspicion coiled inside you tightens further. “Of course he’d say that. But you mustn’t forget that you won’t officially inherit the headship for a while longer. If he’s going to try to worm his way back in here, now’s the only chance he has.” You have to ask, even if it sounds like a scoff, “You don’t really think it’s a coincidence he’d show up now?”

He stares at you for a long second. Enough time for you to notice how tightly his hands are grabbing his knees. “And you don’t seriously think he’d want to come back here, do you? After how you all treated him?”

‘You all’. The blame stokes your anger into a flare that overwhelms everything else - your composure, your need to convince him - and you have to hiss to keep from shouting. “He had  _ no right _ to be here in the first place. That- that woman had no right to force him on us!”

It’s easy enough to see him bristle. But he knows too. No one will interrupt you here, but if either of you are loud enough to be overheard, the argument will make its way to your husband eventually. “Whatever his mother might have done,” he finally says, frustration lining each word, “That has nothing to do with him.” 

Still he’s trying to make himself sound like the reasonable one. As if the situation didn’t boil down to one simple fact. “He  _ is  _ what she did; it has  _ everything  _ to do with him!”

He’s almost shaking, he’s wound himself up so tightly. You have nothing to fear from him, though. He can feel however he wants; you will not concede on this, and you sincerely doubt that he’d dare risk escalating this argument. Sure enough, after a few silent moments, his expression slowly starts easing back into neutrality. He straightens, and simply says, “If you’re going to tell Father, you should hurry up and do it.”

The defiance in his eyes rekindles your own anger... but only for a moment. In the next, your heart breaks. Your son was always so sweet. Gentle, obedient. All these years you couldn’t have asked for a better child. This- this ugly arrogance, it has to be that boy’s influence. There’s simply no other explanation. As much as you’ve tried not to think about those awful days all living under the same roof, it hasn’t been so long that you’ve forgotten how his behavior started to turn. His temper had gotten worse, you’d catch him sulking almost every day. There were even times he’d speak back to you and your husband, like he is now.

You don’t know what it is about that boy, for him to cast such a pall over your son, but he’s done it again. In even less time than before.

Perhaps you  _ should  _ call your husband in. Tell him everything. You’re sure he’d be able to do something to stop this; even if Kazumi couldn’t be convinced, there were other ways. If that boy’s mother is after more, then more can be given. There’s no price too great, as far as you're concerned, for your family to finally be left in peace. And if Kazumi sees how easily those two disappear with just a bit more money waved in front of him, any illusions he has about them will surely disappear too.

But... you look at your boy’s determined eyes. All this, for a ‘brother’ he hasn’t seen in years. You frown a bit. Everyone wants what they can’t have. What they’re not supposed to have. And though the admission leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it does seem like Kazumi takes after your husband more than you’d like after all. The harder you make it for him to see this boy, the more your son will want to. And the more he’ll resent you for not allowing it.

...You won’t leave him vulnerable like that. You mustn’t.

“I won’t tell him,” you say, and can’t help some amusement as your son begins deflating into wary confusion. “I suppose I can’t guarantee he won’t find out on his own, but... he won’t hear about it from me.”

He blinks, mouth moving without any words coming out for a few seconds. Then, “What...?”

“Kazumi, I don’t enjoy fighting with you. Especially not over something like this.” You won’t make yourself his enemy. You won’t give him a single reason to trust that woman over you, ever. “Just... please, do be discreet. And make sure it doesn’t interfere with your school work. He’ll definitely notice, if that’s the case.”

“I- thank you.” He still sounds more confused than grateful, but your smile comes easily regardless. He’ll remember this moment, you’re certain of that. When that boy finally shows his true colors, when your son’s finally broken out of his delusion, he’ll remember how you knew better. And he’ll remember that you accepted his choice anyway. Then whatever trouble he’s gotten into with those two people, he’ll know he can go to you for help. Because he’ll know you’re on his side. Only you.


End file.
